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Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Here's the list I'm trying to complete. It is going to take me 9 years.

I saw this next item on the list a couple days ago and thought, "Oh boy. This one's going to be fun." Note: This is exactly how it appears on the list. The misspellings and gross usage of acronyms is NOT MINE. And I apologize in advance for getting ranty.

Day 12 - something your OCD about

Well, there are two things in the question itself. For one, I CAN! NOT! STAND! when people don't know the proper usage of different forms of words.

Your = Something that belongs to you

You're = A contraction. A combination of "You" and "Are"

Yore = Times that have passed by long ago

Example: Quincy, if you're not going to quit talking about your yore, I'm going to punch you in your face. (I threw in an extra one for you. You're welcome.)

Maybe it's because I was an English major, but I don't think this stuff is that hard. It doesn't really matter to me whether or not you grasp the concept of it (because they all sound the same when you use them verbally), but when you write something down, or you have a misspelling on a sign out front of your store, or whatever, I judge you. You should understand the basic rules of grammar before publishing anything.

(Note: Not to say I've never had a typo, accidentally typed the wrong version of one of these words. . .but I know the difference. It's a mistake, not ignorance.)

The second thing that's wrong with that question is actually something that bothers me so much it makes me angry, and for some effed up reason, people think it's really funny to make me angry by using this.

I've made reference here before regarding my rampant OCD. It's not a fun thing to live with. It's especially difficult when people think that needing to be organized = OCD. I've ranted about this before, so I won't do it again, but that bugs me.

However, saying something like, "I'm being SO OCD about this!" Doesn't. Make. Any. SENSE. It's another sign of English Language Ignorance. (ELI?) If you stretch out the acronym to what it actually means, what you're saying when you say that is "I'm being so Obsessive Compulsive Disorder about this!" OCD is not an adjective. It is a noun.

As part of the aforementioned OCD, I can't stand (CAN NOT STAND) butchering of English like this. It makes me angry and frustrated and I don't know what to do with myself. On my list of things like this people do that make me inexplicably angry are:

1. Using "OCD" as an adjective.

2. Saying "machine" after "ATM" or "number" after "PIN." (What you're basically saying when you do that is "Automated Teller Machine Machine" or "Personal Identification Number Number." It does not make sense.

and

3. Adding -oholic or -aholic to things (shopaholic, chocoholic, workaholic, etc.) That doesn't make sense, either. If you're addicted to alcohol, you're an alcoholic. "-ohol" is part of the word "alcohol." You're not addicted to workahol or chocohol. You're addicted to work and chocolate.

So, in conclusion, the "thing I am OCD about" is misuse of the English language, and when people just don't get how words, word endings, and acronyms are supposed to work.

I realize this one went a little bitchy, but I can't even tell you how much these things bother me. I don't know what the next item on the list is, but I really hope it puts me in a better mood than this one did.

Friday, June 25, 2010

Can I cheat a little and use one of both D and me? There's one that was taken at the wedding we went to this weekend that I'd like to use, but I don't know how long it'll take for pictures to get processed and whatever. So here you go.

This was taken really recently. Like, yesterday. So that's pretty much what I look like. My glasses are a little off balance. D is also sporting his haircut, which his mom had given him, like, an hour prior.

So there was a wedding this weekend. My friend Carol got married, and it was. . .hands down, the most awesome wedding I've ever been to. Legitimately, I've been to. . .several weddings in the last 5 years or so, but no other couple looked as happy and as good together as Carol and Matt did.

I started this hours ago and am getting ready to head out. I'll talk about the wedding more later. I promise.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

So, I'm aware I've already posted a list thing today, but I have an hour to go, a really loud "EEEEEEEEE!!" System Failure alarm going off with no end in sight, no air conditioning, my work system isn't working, and I have a headache and a rampant earache. Are you REALLY going to tell some one this cranky not to post another list item?

This was me at 4. We were still living in New Hampshire, and I was still doing ballet. This was before I, at age 7, started taking karate instead. From ballet to karate. Awesome. So this was, in fact, taken more than 10 years ago.Now, this one. I'm about 6 in this one, and this was while I was taking my ballet/jazz/tap combo classes. Obviously, this was the one for tap. (Hence the tap shoes.) Yes, I am, in fact, wearing fishnet tights. It's less creepy than it could be, though, because I don't have any makeup on, and my hair is just pulled back, unlike the mini beauty queen prostitots on "Toddlers and Tiaras."

Also, it must be said. . .Good Lord, check out those ears. I'm kind of surprised that the wind didn't pick me up and carry me away. I (mostly) grew into those things, though, so it's OK.

Now disturbing true story about this picture. I very (very) briefly "dated" this guy. . .I'm fairly sure it was after my freshman year of college, but for some reason, I always think it could be my sophomore year of college. I was somewhere in the 19-20 range. He was older than me, 21-22-ish.

He saw this picture, got this. . .disturbing look in his eye, and he goes, "So. . .do you still have that outfit?"

. . . . . . . . .

Needless to say, THAT is a relationship that didn't go the distance.

What I wanted to say was, "Um, even if I did, I was SIX! It wouldn't FIT! Also, CREEPY!"

It should also be noted that this guy was never allowed to touch me in any manner save a couple hugs I was pulled into unexpectedly. The mere thought of that now kind of makes me want to go shower with bleach.

I have taken many photos in my life. Many. If I had a good camera right now, I'd be taking a lot more. I don't have my file of photos with me right now, but I'm sure I can find one somewhere. . .

This was taken over Easter 2008. That's my sister on the left and her friend Meghan on the right. We'd gone to a park. . .somewhere or another and I have 2 photo albums of pictures from that trip. Good times.

D and I are going to my friend Carol's wedding this weekend. . .should be fun. I haven't bought a wedding gift yet because. . .well, because I'm not rolling in money, and nothing on the registry is less than $40. I'm thinking gift card.

I'd bought a new dress to wear, but then I unearthed another one from my closet that I'd bought at a consignment shop and never worn. I modeled it for D and he said, "That. That is what you're wearing to the wedding."

(And you know, when I type it out, it sounds creepy and demanding. It wasn't. He was enthusiastic about the dress. It looks. . .well, it looks awesome. And I've never worn it. So there's that.)

Had a weird thing happen when I was working at the library last night. I was sitting on the floor, sorting magazines (as you do), and this guy with an accent (Russian?) was sitting there reading newspapers. He strikes up a conversation with me, nothing weird about it, and then at the end, he's like, "It was nice talking to you, Sarah."

. . . . . .????

Then he looks at my nametag for verification and says, "Yeah, I've seen you here before."

. . . . .????????!!!!!!!

Super creepy.

I told the security guard about it before I left, but, unfortunately, I didn't say anything about it before the guy left, so I had absolutely no description except that he was a dude and he had an accident.

I'd be an absolutely terrible witness to a crime. Legitimately. I'd be like, "Um, someone ran off with someone's purse. . .I think it was a man that stole it, but it could have been a butch woman. He/she was. . .somewhere between 5'6 and 6'5, I think they had brown hair, but it could have been blonde, and they were wearing. . .clothes."

I just need to stay out of sketchy neighborhoods.

Oh, and if you're interested, this is what I'm going to make for dinner tonight. Yum.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

I was going to do one of each, one that made me angry and one that made me sad, but I decided I deal with anger better than sadness.

So here it is. The picture that makes me angry. And, come to think of it, a little sad, too.

Yeah, I can just hear the collective, ". . . . . .huh?" Let me e'splain. (Also, I did not take this picture. I do not know who took this picture. I stole it off of facebook.)

OK, what's written on the bridesmaids' thighs is the Greek letters for Phi Sigma Pi. (Phi Sigma Pi Thigh?) It was the honors fraternity (Yeah, fraternity. Not sorority. It was co-ed.) that I belonged to in college. I joined because, for one, my cousin was a member at her college in the mountains and said it was awesome, because I really wanted to wear Greek letters (I thought they were badass), and because I desperately wanted to belong to SOMETHING in college, and when I went to the interest meeting for the campus sororities, all of the girls looked at me like I'd walked into the wrong room. ("Um, the Brunette Girls in Vintage Dresses and Chunky Heels meeting is three doors down. This is the meeting for the Blonde Girls Who Wear Prada and Stilettos.")

So I pledged and joined Phi Sig. It was. . .truth be told, it was awkward the entire time I was a member. I did. not. fit. in. I had a couple of friends in the group, but I never really meshed with most of the people.

So, part of the pledging process involves being assigned a "Big Brother." (This stands whether you're a dude or a non-dude. I was a brother. Everyone in the group is a brother. I still laugh when I get e-mails from Nationals that begin, "Dear Brother (Mylastname)." It's funny.

My Big was the bride in the photo, Jenn. When assigned to me, Jenn told me that she'd requested me amongst the initiates. Jenn was cool. We had to spend time with our Bigs weekly, and she would always bring me a little present, and we did cool stuff.

So, I get in to the fraternity, and all is good in the world.

This one semester comes up where we had SO! MANY! PLEDGES! and there were only, like, 8 members. (Long story, man. Long story.)

Jenn had already had me as a Little and another girl, Erica, as a Little. When it came to this semester, she had three: Holly, Alia, and Bethany. (Bridesmaid on the far left and the two to the right of the picture.)

Once these girls came around, it's like Jenn had never known me. They were a really crazy bunch of girls, and I'm guessing that they were just more fun than me.

Really long, "Poor me, Sarah has no friends" story short, I had no idea Jenn had even gotten married. She got married, and had her Fun Littles as her bridesmaids. So when I saw that picture, I was. . .well, it didn't feel great.

I was going to go on a bit about this, but I have to think about what I was going to say before I say it. I don't want it to come out like I'm whining, which I'm already in danger of having done.

Friday, June 18, 2010

The timing of this prompt is ironic, because I just read a blog post from some guy who was trying to come up with 1,001 things he hated. Although I'm fairly certain I could give that a valiant effort (maybe not 1,001. . .maybe 101?), 20 of my favorite things is so much more positive. Of course, me being me, I'm not going to be able to just make a list. I'm going to have to make commentary.

These are in NO PARTICULAR ORDER. I say that so, if I put a person on there, they're not like, "You like CHEESE more than me?!!" So, no particular order.

2. Riding down the highway with the windows down and the stereo cranked up so I can sing along without hearing myselfBilly Joel? Yes, please. *NSync? Of course. Green Day? Eff yes. Doesn't matter the music as long as it's loud and I know the words.

3. BooksI love reading. I think that much is clear. I love reading, and I don't get nearly enough time to just sit down and read. The last book that I sat down and just read straight through was Audrey Niffenegger's "Her Fearful Symmetry." Weird, weird book. But still awesome.

4. My Blackberry knock-off cell phoneMy phone is not a Blackberry. It's an AT&T Pay-As-You-Go phone that LOOKS like a Blackberry. But it makes me feel cool. The downside is that now I'm pretty much incapable of texting on regular cell phones. I've forgotten how. 5. My DNot going to get all mushy-gushy, but my life is 'more better' with him around. Plus, he puts together a lunchbox of snacks for me when I go to work. Win-win.

6. My sisterKatie and I had a tenuous relationship when I was in high school but came out the other side relatively unscathed. She's in my top 3 favorite people.

7. Foreign filmsFrench foreign films are freaking weird. That's one reason I love them. Another reason is that you can have a murder mystery-romance-lesbian-musical movie in English, and it's weird; but if it's in French? It's AWESOME.

8. Black pensI don't like blue pens. I don't write with them. But I love a good black pen, with the kind of ink that's a little shiny, but not enough to smear all over your hands? Awesome.

9. Bacon Cheese FriesThey must also have Ranch dressing. There was a bar within walking distance of where I lived in the mountains that had the! best! cheese fries EVER. I think they've closed down now (not surprisingly. . .the owner was kind of a dick to his employees.) but they legitimately had the best cheese fries EVER. Also the best Southwestern salad, but that's a story for another time.

10. Smart HumorI love a good joke that you have to think about for a second before you laugh. Whether it's a joke or a pun or whatever, I like having to think about why it's funny before laughing. Gross-out humor, I'm not into. Fart jokes are not on my repatoire of Things I Find Humorous. But if you give me a joke that I have to have some kind of knowledge about something to get, that's awesome.

The best example I can think of right offhand is pretty much everything Demitri Martin has ever said. Two of my favorites are, "A mobile home with a flat tire is a home," and "It's funny to me why 'finger puppets' is OK as a noun."

Classic.

11. Making ListsI love a good list. If you said to me, "Sarah, make a list of. . .food," I'd be like, woohoo! Food list! The only thing better would be if you gave me markers and Post-It notes so I could color coordinate the list.

12. CupcakesI love cupcakes. Making them, eating them, whatever. When I win the lottery and have my own bakery, I'm going to have an entire line of just cupcakes. The last ones I made were cherry cupcakes, and it's actually true that fruit is better suited to be put in muffins. They were fine, though. I also made buttercream icing to put on them, so awesome.

13. Concert T-shirts with the tour dates on the backWhenever I go to a show (which is not actually all that often, contrary to my two-shows-a-week habit of. . .last week), I always want to buy an overpriced T-shirt. But I won't buy said T-shirt unless it has a list of the dates and places the tour went. I did not buy a T-shirt at the Ingrid Michaelson/Matt Morris show, for one, because the quality was crap, but also, because there were no tour dates. The Backstreet Boys show? Hell yes, I bought a T-shirt. And I've evern worn it in public. Once.

14. BlogsThis is. . .not a new development, but recently, I've become fully entrenched in the World of Blog. Reading them/writing them/whatever. I love the whole concept.

15. ShoesYeah, I'm one of THOSE PEOPLE. We have this shoe rack that was built into the closet of the apartment. There are. . .5 or 6 shelves on the rack, and each shelf holds 3 pairs of shoes. Originally, D had the top shelf, and I had the rest, but somehow I managed to convince him to let me comandeer the entire thing. So now I have that (which adds up to 15-18 pairs of shoes, all heels), a shoe thing hanging on the back of the closet door (sneakers), that holds something like 16 pairs, 5-8 pairs of boots lined up under my clothes, and a bookshelf (that will one day hold books, if I ever move them out of my father's house) that is currently holding 9 or so pairs of summer shoes/sandals. It's a sickness.

16. Thrift StoresMy sister, for the longest time, refused to set foot in a Goodwill. She didn't like the smell, I guess, and how dirty they tend to be. I, however, love some Goodwill. I justify my love for it with the fact that whenever I clean out closets, etc., I bring it all to Goodwill (unless someone I know is having a yardsale. I've found more shoes and dresses in a Goodwill than I can even count. And it's not just Goodwill. Consignment shops are awesome, too. We're going to a wedding next weekend, and a dress that I bought at a consignment shop in the mountains is what I'm going to wear. It's a $100+ dress that I got for like $20 or less.

17. ProfanityOK, OK. I know it's not very lady-like. I shy away from most profanity while a) blogging; b) at work; c) around children; and d) at my mother's house. I feel like it's a respect thing, combined with a professionalism thing. I don't want someone from a company I'm trying to work for coming across this blog and seeing that I'm calling every other person an m-fer, and I know better than to use it in a work setting. But sometimes, there is truly nothing more satisfying than slamming your finger in a drawer or something and having te ability to scream, "SONOFABITCH!" It's. . .cathartic. It's obnoxious when it's constant, though. Like Kevin Smith movies. Or my ex-boyfriend. Or The Blonde One I used to work with.

18. Being RightIf you know me, you know how much I love being right. If you say "Grease 2" came out in 1983, and I KNOW it came out in 1982, I will make absolutely sure that you know that I'm right. I'm not obnoxious about it, but I'll look it up online and be like, "Well, actually, it says right here. . ." It's another compulsive thing. Sometimes I'm wrong, admittedly, but if I KNOW I'm right, I need people to know that I am. Unobnoxiously.

The only thing wrong with this is when I KNOW I'm right, and someone, despite evidence to the contrary, still insists I'm wrong. When I'm clearly not. An example of this is one of my college BFFs, Kenny. That song. . .I think it's actually called "I Would Walk 500 Miles," has the lines:

"And I would walk 500 miles;And I would walk 500 more;Just to be the man who walked;A thousand miles to fall down at your door."

Kenny INSISTS to this day that the last line is "Five thousand miles to fall down at your door."

This? Makes NO SENSE. He walked 500, and then he walked 500 again. 500 + 500 = 1,000. It does not equal 5,000. And, thanks OCD, this bugs me more than it should.

19. E-mail that's not spamI love opening my inbox to find I have 12 new messages. I do not so much love opening my inbox to find that I have 12 new messages, 8 of them are spam, 3 are newsletters, and one is telling me I didn't get the job I applied for. I like getting e-mail from legitimate people. D sends me e-mails, and I enjoy the mornings when I get those.

20. Finishing a projectLike this list.

(Note: I typed "pride" into Google to find an illustration for this one, and it came up with a bunch of rainbow flags, men in leather thongs, and parades. Uhhmm. . .not THAT kind of pride.)

Thursday, June 17, 2010

This prompt isn't as interesting to me as the others. I know some people walk around with many contemplative quotes in their arsenal, but I do not. I can quote TV shows (The Office and Friends, mainly), but I don't have a specific quote that I always go back to.

The one I put in the yearbook my senior year was from "American Beauty." It's the part where Kevin Spacey starts in on his "I'm going to get hot so I can do my daughter's friend" kick, and he says, "It's a great thing when you realize you still have the ability to surprise yourself." I've always liked that, but I wouldn't go so far as to call it my favorite.

How about my favorite thing that was said to me in time of crisis?

I used to work at a newspaper, as you may or may not know. I was in charge of the Life section. . .you know, human interest stories, births, deaths, engagements, weddings, etc. There was this woman who came in to talk to me because I'd. . .I can't remember specifically. I'd either forgotten to put in the story about her grandson (who was in the military) or I'd messed it up or something. I'd effed up the story, in short.

So she came in and tore me a new one. I'd been on the job. . .MAYBE 2 months. My boss was sort of sadistic, so screwing up meant fear.

After she finished yelling at me, and I'd apologized profusely and maybe cried (No, I don't think I cried. Much. While she was standing there.) she got a lot nicer, and she said, "Dear, just remember one thing. The people who don't make mistakes are the one who aren't actually doing anything at all."

I've remembered that since then. It doesn't really make me feel better when I'm messing up a batch of cupcakes or getting fired from said newspaper job or getting into an argument, but I thought it was nice of her to say that.

D and I started watching "Up!" last night and I did. not. like. it. Karen had told me that when she watched it, she'd cried, so I thought, OK, it's a happy movie where someone is in peril, but it all works out in the end in a joyous sort of manner.

Not so, my friends. Not so AT ALL. (If you haven't seen it and want to skip over this next part, I understand. <>

We didn't actually get to the end of the movie (fell asleep), but the beginning of it involved getting all invested in this couple that met as kids, grew up, got married, lived a happy life until the wife, who the guy loves so much. . .DIES. She effing DIES. And then he gets depressed and hits a construction worker who hits his mailbox that he and his wife put up many, many years ago, and gets sent to an old folks' home. < /spoilers>

WHAT the WHAT?!

This is a freaking kid's movie. (Actually. . .come to think of it, I guess there were plenty of horrifying deaths in kids' movies of my day. But STILL!) I did not put in a colorful, cutesy-looking movie to cry.

And cry I did.

I cried through I'm pretty sure the first third of the movie. And then finally, blessedly, I fell asleep. I have no idea how it ends, and I don't want to watch it again to find out. I'm a super-sensitive person anyway, but give me something like that, and I'm just a mess.

What I'm thinking (but didn't verbalize, because OBVIOUSLY) was along the lines of "Oh my God, there's this age difference between us and you're going to die and I'm going to be all alooooooooone!" or "Why didn't WE meet when we were kids? I'm not going to have enough time with you and I'll be all aloooooooooone!"

(Of course. . .we couldn't have met when we were kids. But that's not the point.)

All I'm saying here is that I don't appreciate Pixar and their mean "Hey, this is a cartoon, but it's going to throw you into the PITS OF DEPRESSION!"

(Apparently, it has a happy ending. So why didn't they START with the happy?)

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

I want to know whose bright idea it was to come up with some of the things on this list. I can't think of many people who legitimately have ONE favorite of any of these things.

Incidentally, I was asked this question on Monday night by one of the library volunteers. You'd be surprised (or maybe not) how many times you get asked "What's your favorite book?" while working in a library.

My stock answer has always been "The Great Gatsby" by F. Scott Fitzgerald. This is a brilliant book, with tons of symbolism and imagery that I don't really care a lot about. Legitimately, one of my least favorite things about being an English major was that we had to analyze EVERYTHING. Why was that character named Bob Smith? Why did the author choose to put the woman in a red dress rather than a blue dress? What was the author's intent for making the main character's mother have Eggs Benedict and apple juice for breakfast the morning of the murder of the dog?

I don't actually care about any of that. Plus, there's no real way of knowing the author's intent for anything unless you actually ask them.

So I don't love "The Great Gatsby" because I know why the light at the end of the dock was green, or why Gatsby's love interest's name was Daisy or why Jordan eventually ended it with Nick. I don't really know any of these things, and I don't much care. I just know that I love the book. Plus, if you look on the cover, there are pictures of naked people in the face's eyes. (hee hee)

Asking someone like me (an English major, someone who works in a library, etc.) their favorite book is like asking Kate Gosselin which one of her kids is her favorite.

(Ew. I just referenced Kate Gosselin. EW! I just did it again.)

It's a really hard choice. I can tell you that, Gatsby aside, I've read some really awesome literature in my day. When I was in college, I had a professor who I may or may not have had a raging crush on (I did), named Michael Parker. Michael Parker (who is one of those people who must, under all circumstances, be referred to by both first and last name), taught both the creative writing class and the modern literature class I took in the Spring semester (I think) of my sophomore year.

(It should be noted that I did not take the classes because I had a raging crush on him. I didn't know him from Adam when I signed up for the classes. It just so happened it worked out that way. It was actually kind of a pain, because if I skipped the morning class, in the afternoon, he was all, "So, Sarah. Where were you this morning?" Same with skipping the afternoon class.)

Anyway, one of the books we read was "Mrs. Bridge" by Evan Connell. To this day, it remains one of my absolute favorites, and is maybe the only book whose ending was so beautiful and poignant that it made me tear up. But just a little. I'm not a wuss. My copy of "Mrs. Bridge," however, met with a horrible end in a coffee-related trucking accident. I've been unable, thus far, to find another copy with the correct cover. (The cover corresponds to and matches the cover of my copy of "Mr. Bridge.")

Even though I could go on (and on and on and on. . .) about books, I'll just mention one more that. . .I don't want to say it changed my life, per se, but it did something to me that I can't quite explain. I hated the ending, but the rest of the book was amazing and incredible to me, and I couldn't put it down in the day and a half it took me to read it.

"The Time Traveler's Wife" by Audrey Niffenegger, although a little confusing and weird in spots, was just beautiful. It's a legitimate love story that left me really quiet when it ended. I was disappointed that the story was over, and I wanted back the feeling I had when I was in the throes of it. Lovely book. The movie, however, was awful. Terrible. No chemistry between the main characters, and if you hadn't read the book, you'd have little to no idea what was going on.

As my consolation prize, I'll throw in "Lolita" by Vladimir Nabokov. Yes, it's the story of a man obsessed with his pre-pubescent step-daughter, but I dare you to read that book, a book of love and jealousy and crazy obsession, and tell me that you don't, at some point, just really feel for the guy. Another awesome read.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

My last post was my 50th post, and I didn't realize it. That doesn't seem like such a big deal, but my OCD has a weird way with numbers, and a big, round number like 50 is something I enjoy. Don't judge me.

The company for which I am currently working is waiting for the FDA to come and do an inspection. It's a relatively new company in this location, so they have to make sure everything's in good working order.

This, of course, means that everyone's freaking out. Through some process of elimination I don't understand (having not worked extensively in the pharmaceutical industry), everyone's decided that they're coming this week. So everyone's been freaking the eff out.

I get a phone call from a number I don't recognize today, right when I walk in.

"[Name of Company], this is Sarah," I say.

"Are They there?"

It was my boss calling from her cell phone. No "Hi, Sarah! How are you on this lovely Tuesday?" or "Hello, Sarah! Your phone voice is ravishing today!" or even "Sarah. Why did I have to call 6 times before you answered?" (Legitimately. I had 8 missed calls when I walked in this morning. 2 of them were from after I'd left yesterday, and the other 6 were from her, this morning, spaced anywhere from 30 seconds to 1:15 apart.)

I go about my business, putting 845,056,069 papers in order for filing, and someone from the other building walks by.

"Have They come?" she asks.

"Nope."

"OK. Let me know when They do."

This happens a few more times before lunch, and I'm thinking to myself I need to work for the FDA! I want to strike this much fear in the hearts of many! I want people scampering to get everything finished before I show up. I think that's the ideal.

I didn't think it was that big of a deal (OK, no. I KNOW the FDA coming is a big deal, but I didn't think it was a big deal for ME.) but my boss said, "OK, Sarah. When They come in, call (the plant manager) immediately. And then call (the QA director). Oh, and be charming."

What?

First off, I'm always charming. But. . .that's a legit order? I'm scared of these people! I'm expecting them to come in weilding machetes over their heads, dressed head to toe in camo with several bullets strapped across their chests.

(No, I don't know why they have bullets if they're using machetes. Ask them. Or better yet, don't. They might KILL YOU.)

Long story short, the FDA did not show up today. Hopefully, they'll show up tomorrow, so people will stop asking me if they're here. And so I can see if my machete theory is true.

I started doing a list of things (see: here). Here is thing number three:

Day 03 - your favorite television program

Cancelled or uncancelled? Cable or network?

I don't actually watch that much TV, but Grey's Anatomy is probably my current favorite that is actually on TV currently. I also love (LOVE!) the Food Network, and I miss it now that we only have the most basic of cable packages.

Older shows, I have every season of Friends, and I feel like Wonderfalls was one of those TV shows cut off before its prime. I used to never miss The Office, but now it's lamer than lame. Jim and Pam need to STFU and go away with their stupid baby.

30 Rock used to be one I never missed, but I just got busy with life, and I don't think I watched it once last season.

Modern Family is good. Cougar Town is not good.

This is a pretty short vignette of a post, but I don't really have a lot to say about TV. The most passionate thing I feel about it is that I miss the Food Network. I also miss watching trashy reality TV. But I feel like I'm a better person for my lack of a billion channels.

Monday, June 14, 2010

First! I've mentioned that I follow about 6,094,864 blogs. Along with that comes me sometimes entering giveaways. (A lot of the giveaways are for things I would never need, like. . .a bra for nursing, or a year's supply of baby wipes. I do not enter those.)

For all the 'contests' I've entered, I've never won anything. . .until today!

At the Say Anything blog, I entered a contest for candles. . .and I won! Granted, there were only 16 entries, so the odds were pretty good, but what was funny to me was that there were several ways to win (you got an entry for following her on Twitter, following the blog, etc.), and some people entered 4 or 5 times. But my one little entry won, and I'm wicked excited!

So the weekend was great.

Friday night, I took D to the Lincoln Theatre to see his girlfriend, Ingrid Michaelson. The show was sold out, and the opening act was this guy named Matt Morris, who I'd never heard of until that evening, but who is apparently a pretty Big Deal. His album was produced by Justin Timberlake's record label, he was on the Mickey Mouse Club, his father was a country music singer, etc. He was AWESOME. Ended up buying his album, and D got him to sign both poster and and CD for me.

The best part, I think, was when this girl in the crowd yelled out, "Matt! Will you marry me?" and he laughed and held up his left hand (which had a ring on it) and said, "Sorry, sweetheart. But if you want to come out to the lobby after the show, we can talk! And I'll give you a hug!" Then he was like, "A marriage proposal. . .that is SO rock and roll!"

When we spoke to him afterward, he was so nice and so down to Earth. I hope everyone and their mother buys his album.

Then Ingrid came on. Her show was great. Really, really great. The crowd was into it, she was into it. . .she did a cover of Britney Spears' "Toxic". . .all was good in the world.

After the show, however, when we hung around to meet her, she only seemed interested in the fans that were all, "OMG, Ing. I totes luv ur music! We should be BFF!" D told her that I'd given him the tickets as a gift, because he likes her so much, and she was all, "OK, whatever. GIRLS WITH GIFTS! Come to me!" And was talking about during the show how people give her stuff all the time, and she throws it out. I was like. . .really?

I was not pleased with that at all. She was actually a real bitch. Puts on a great show, but needs some lessons in Social Graces. Maybe Matt Morris can teach her some.

Saturday, we hit the Farmer's Market. With a car. (Just kidding.) Bought some peaches and some ridiculously hot cheese D likes and that I will not get near. Then we went to get some coffee and were looking over this publication that prints a "Best of" list every year. D's been really wanting some chicken wings for the last little while, so we went to the place that was voted Best in the Triangle. The place was awesome. Really, really awesome. And I tried a strawberry beer that I feel like I could sit around and drink for days.

Then we walked for a while, checking out all the people bar-hopping. We hopped no bars.

Sunday, I worked at the library, then we went for pizza and more walking, around a lake this time. And that's the story of my awesome weekend. What did you guys do over the weekend?

Sunday, June 13, 2010

I started doing a list of things (see: here). Here is thing number two:

Day 02: Your favorite movie*

Much like with the songs, I don't have a favorite movie. I love movies, and have (if I do say so myself) a pretty good and extensive collection at home. I have old movies, romantic comedies, action movies, great movies, terrible movies, gay movies, old movies. . .Pretty much everything. A couple of my favorites, though. . .

1. Pulp Fiction

Pulp Fiction (the movie after which my blog AND Twitter name are named) is one of my favorite movies of all time. Yes, the profanity flows freely, and yes, there are some pretty violent moments, but on the whole, it's incredible, if you can keep up with the intersection storylines. Plus, Uma Thurman is basically a goddess in this movie, so there's that. And John Travolta is badass and someone I'd want to hang out with. If I were into hanging out with contract killers. (I'm not.)

2. American Psycho 2

This? Is a bad movie. I mean it. is. a. BAD MOVIE. The dialogue is terrible, there's no real plot to speak of, it only marginally has anything to do with American Psycho the original, there are plot holes wide enough to drive. . .it's basically laughably bad. I've never seen American Psycho, but from what I understand, it's pretty gruesome. The worst thing that happens in this movie (SPOILER ALERT!) is that you see a woman who has hanged herself (. . .or DID she?), and you see some brain matter on a plaque.

Because William freaking Shatner is in it. Also, because it's entertaining in a way that I'm not sure it's intended to be.

Also, contrary to the movie cover, there is no giant hook of any kind involved in anything.

3. Legally Blonde

To round out my Awesome Movie Trifecta, I'm going to include one of my favorites that I'd call a guilty pleasure, if not for the fact that I am willing to tell everyone and their mother how much I love it. Reese Witherspoon is so perfect in this role, and she's adorable to boot. The storyline is kind of like. . .WHAT? But it's awesome. And I also always tear up a little bit when (SPOILER ALERT!) she gets into law school. It's a lovely movie, and any time I turn on the TV and see that it's on, no matter where in the movie I'm coming into it, I have to sit down and watch it. Awesome.

*Yes, I'm aware it's not technically Day 2. The weekend was busy, and I think you'll forgive me.

Friday, June 11, 2010

If you held a gun to my head and said, "Sarah, pick one favorite song," I'd be like, "Please stop holding a gun to my head," and when you realized that it was stupid to be threatening my life over a song, you would lower the gun and contemplate what you were doing, which would give me the opportunity to Judo Chop your wrist to get the gun out of your hand while holding you in a Full Nelson until the cops got there. Incidentally, it wouldn't take them long to get there, because they were watching from across the street and one of them says, "Holy Jeez, that person has a gun to that girl's head." This is also how they knew to come over. Because they saw it.

Point being, all this would transpire because I wouldn't know what to tell you. I can tell you favorite artists, I can tell you songs I love, but I can't actually give you one song that is My Song. So I'll give you a few from which to choose and the circumstances under which I love them. I hope that's OK, but I'm guessing it won't be, since you were the one holding a gun to my head a few minutes ago.

Best Song That Reminds Me of Middle School But That I Still Sing Along To-- *NSync's "I Want You Back"

This song was 'DA BOMB' in middle school. (Do people still say that? Did anyone ever say that?) It's catchy, it's poppy, it's about a boy wanting a girl back because he did her wrong (which. . .I had no experience with, but I took their word for it that that's the way it goes.) I love this song to this day and will still unabashedly play it with the windows rolled down whilst rocking out. As much as one can rock out to a boy band.

Best Song to Sing During Karaoke If I Were Willing to Sing in Public--Carrie Underwood "Before He Cheats"

I don't sing. No, wait, that's a lie. I don't sing well. Therefore, I do not sing in public. However, there are times when you're out at a bar (I would imagine) that your friends are like, "Come on! Sing! Get up and do karaoke!" And if that were to ever happen to me, this is the song I'd sing. I don't know why, but I've always imagined getting up and getting all into it and tossing my hair in a sexy sort of way that says "Yeah, you're not going to cheat on ME!"

. . .I don't know.

Best Song That Will Immediately Put You in the Mood for Lovin'-- Maroon 5 "Kiwi"

This song is dirty. There's no other way to put it except that it's dirty as hell. And I love it. (This isn't an actual music video, as Maroon 5 never recorded one for this song. It's just the song.)

So there's three. I have a list of like 6 more, but I started this post like 12 hours ago, and I feel like it's about time to move on. Maybe I'll revisit the idea of Music for Special Occasions later.

One of the (many. Many.) blogs I read put this thing up, a 30-day topic-a-day list of things to write about. I'm going to attempt to keep up with it, although I haven't decided whether I'm going to make these, as a whole, their own seperate entries or if I'm going to attach them to something I've already written, but I guess it doesn't matter. So here's the list:

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

(Note: This is another entry that contains photographs I, myself, did not take. The ones at the ceremony were taken by my SDad, and the others, I THINK, were taken by D. Just FYI.)

Katie graduated last Friday. While I was busy graduating college and getting my first job and getting fired from said job and getting engaged, Katie went and grew up and graduated. D and I were THISCLOSE to being late, thanks to Raleigh traffic on a Friday afternoon, but we made it. Even found a good parking spot. I was fine on the way there. I was fine whilst parking. I was fine when I walked in.

And then I hear, "SARAH!" and turn to see Katie in line, getting ready to go in, waving and grinning with all the excitement of a soon-to-be high school graduate.

That's about the time I lost it.

I cried until we got to our seats. I ended up sitting next to a cousin of mine who is. . .kind of mean? And who would have mocked me had I cried any more, so I managed to hold it in through most of the ceremony. I just looked away if I had to cry.

Katie went to a private Christian school. I don't know how many of you know what about private Christian schools, but the graduations from such institutions are. . .all exactly the same. A few too many songs sung, a way-too-long "message" during which you find out that you may or may not be going to Hell, all in a gym that's hot. Freaking hot.

This one was pretty much on the money.

The main thing, though, that I need to mention, is the speaker. He's from a Christian college in South Carolina, the name of which I won't explicitly type out on the off chance this blog comes up when you Google it. He was wearing this giant medallion that has something to do with being the President of said college, and told us promptly that it has its own facebook page. (You're welcome.)

He started off with an analogy (or something) about a turtle on a post. A fence post, you know? In this case Turtle on Post = High School Graduate. The idea was that a turtle on a post clearly didn't get there by itself, and neither did a high school graduate. . .they had support along the way, etc. OK. Good analogy.

But then.

Actually, no. I lie. He STARTED with a 15-minute commercial for his college. Said that there was one person from last year's graduating class who went to his school. None this year, but hopefully there would be in the future.

Probably not after this particular commencement address.

THEN there was the turtle thing.

And THEN he starts talking about how messed up things are

in the world. Legitimately goes on for about 35 minutes about how crappy things are. According to this guy, every time anyone looks at an airplane, they "see a potential weapon." He went on about the economy, and how there are no jobs. He also took a moment to mention that Al Gore is wrong about global warming but that he, himself, does not have an opinion. There was also something in there about the melting glaciers. But, of course, global warming isn't a thing.

Um, I'm pretty sure that saying Al Gore is wrong is an opinion.

There was a rumble throughout the crowd when he mentioned Al Gore. I don't think it was a lot of people getting mad that he'd said AG was wrong, since the school is made of primarily of conservative Republican-types, but I have all ideas it had everything to do with bringing politics into a high school graduation.

Oh, yeah. That's right. I forgot that the graduates were even THERE.

At one point, he says something like, "Now, you'll be glad to know I'm almost finished. . ." and a few people actually applauded. D was one of these people, and, as it turned out later, my SDad was another one.

Then someone's air horn went off. You'd think that the guy speaking would maybe laugh or say something about it, but no. Just kept on talking. No acknowledgement.

About 40 minutes of doom and gloom (and bling!), and he closes with "But God is there." I think this was his point, but I also think that he chose the Worst! Possible! Way! to get the point across. Finally, blessedly, it was over.

And then everyone got their diplomas, and there was joy in all the land. But seriously? If I were one of these graduates, I'd throw off my stupid hat and be like, "Eff all this. I'm staying in high school."

When Katie's name was called, D said we were maybe one of the top 4 loudest families to cheer. My Marine brother yelled, "Yeah, KATIE!" in a scary, military-type voice. We're all loud by nature, so none of this was a surprise. I probably "WOOHOO!"'ed kind of loudly as well.

Afterward, we went back to Mom's, took some pictures, had some cake, and hung out. My brother brought liquor, which helped with my grieving process.

But all in all, good times.

What's that you want? More pictures? OK, OK. Incidentally, this marks the first time ever I've posted a picture of myself on my blog. This was initially for. . .something like security purposes? But I feel like at this point, I've given enough information that people would be like, "Oh, yeah. That's Sarah."I know what you're wondering, and the answer is yes. I am, in fact, 9,000 feet tall. This is, obviously the fam.

What I should explain before my last picture is that my sister is kind of a misplaced hippie. She legitimately should have been born back in the 50's, so she would have been a teenager in the 60's. She's crunchy and groovy and all about peace signs. So when I wanted to change out of my lovely black and white dress and I borrowed some clothes from Katie, naturally, they were tie-dyed.